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  “When did you ascertain this?” It seemed a little trumped up to me.

  “This morn when I gazed at you, lady. I could see it around your fair face as a halo.”

  “Why didn’t you say something at breakfast?”

  “I admit to being—uncertain about this time—and your circumstance. After considering it, I decided I should regale you.”

  “Thanks for telling me. Really.” I brought out my Beretta, the stun gun, and the tranquilizer gun. “But I’ll be fine, Lucas. I can handle myself.”

  “Even though you are stubborn, you should not be alone.”

  “I won’t be. I’m meeting my boss, and another worker.”

  “I’m not sure your zombie master, and another puppet, can make that kind of difference to this malevolence I sense.”

  “But you can? Lucas, you aren’t even sure who or what you are.”

  “I never said that.”

  “You didn’t have to.” I didn’t want to be cruel, but I also didn’t want to introduce him to Abe. I just had a feeling it would be a bad thing.

  His stiff chin came up, and he looked away. “I do not pretend to understand why I am unable to use my magic for more than vague illusions.”

  “Which is why you should be at the inn figuring it out. You only have a few days, not to put too fine a point on it.”

  “Yes.” He smiled and seemed a little confused. “You are correct, of course. You are able to shield yourself from such things. I should be looking to my own difficulties. My apologies.”

  “Maybe I can help later when I get home. We could look it up on Wikipedia or something.” Okay. I was trying to throw him a bone. I still felt sorry for him.

  His strange green eyes stared into mine. “I am uncertain what Wikipedia is, Skye, but I do not believe the answers are to be found so easily. In the meantime, I would bestow a small charm against evil, if that is permissible?”

  “Sure.” I was pretty sure it wouldn’t matter, but I had nothing to lose.

  I expected him to give me a talisman or something. Instead, he put his hand behind my head, and quickly brought my mouth to his. His kiss lingered for a few sweet seconds, sending sparks flying through me.

  “How is that going to help?” I asked when he’d moved tantalizingly away.

  “A kiss for luck. You wear my mark now. It cannot be erased. Anything evil that approaches you will know that you are under my protection.”

  Smiling, I kissed him again. “That’s very sweet of you. Thanks.”

  He seemed surprised. “I knew there was more between us than you wanted me to know.”

  “I’ve made my choices, Lucas. I can’t abandon them now. Not for you, or anyone else.”

  “I understand.”

  He got out of the van then, and I watched him walk away from the school with his hands in his jacket pockets. Jacob’s jacket pockets.

  I sighed.

  Lucas was right. I felt something for him too.

  Maybe I didn’t have any magic—besides the tattoo on my heel—but I knew what a man looked like when he could mess up a woman’s plans for the future. Lucas was definitely that man, the first for me in two years.

  As far as his protection was concerned, I decided to stick with my own. He might have magic, but I’d taken him down with a stun gun. That told me my stuff was more reliable than his.

  I glanced in the rearview mirror to see if there was really anything visible on my lips. The only thing I saw that shouldn’t have been there was a big, sloppy smile. I shook my head at that smile, and shut it down.

  A school janitor was emptying the trash near the van. He was already staring at me in a suspicious way. I nodded to him, and left the parking lot.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The light coating of ice was gone as I drove back toward Nashville. The roads were wet, but clear. The blue sky overhead seemed to say that everything was okay. I’d never put much stock into signs and portents before I became a zombie. Things changed once I was dead, but still walking around.

  I thought about what Lucas had said about something, or someone, evil marking me. There was no doubt that I came into contact with a whole truckload of weird all the time. I could have accidentally brought something with me.

  A year ago, right after Addie’s death, one of the zombies who’d worked for Abe turned out to be some kind of werewolf. He was changing when I pulled in for the pickup.

  I shot him three times with tranquilizer darts before he went down. It had been scary, dragging him back to the van. I wasn’t sure if he’d wake up and change again before I could get him to the mortuary.

  I’d seen a werewolf. I knew zombies were real—maybe sorcerers too—what else was out there?

  I put that thought out of my head as I approached the small, frame house where I was supposed to pick up the dead zombie. The yard was neat and clean, nothing special. There was a string of Christmas lights on the edge of the roof even though the holiday was long past.

  It was then that I noticed the sheriff’s car parked in the drive on the side of the house. Had Abe called Martin too? I was pretty sure he wouldn’t call any other deputy.

  I pulled out my Beretta as I got out of the van. It seemed quiet enough, but who knew if the killer was still hanging around? I approached carefully, hoping Martin would show his face, and we could deal with the crime scene together. It had been nice to work with someone again who knew what they were doing.

  “Martin?” I called as I pushed open the front door. I hadn’t put on my latex gloves yet. My fingers were covered in the same greasy black film that had been at Mr. Welk’s house. Something the killer was doing left that residue behind. Maybe Martin could have it analyzed.

  There was no response from him. That worried me right away. I knew he’d be on edge if he were in there looking around. He’d call out, and let me know where he was. It was standard law enforcement procedure.

  “Martin? Are you in here?”

  I turned the corner from the small entryway into the living room. I caught my breath, and my hand tightened on my gun, when I saw Martin’s body on the sofa.

  “Don’t touch a thing.” Abe’s voice warned from behind me.

  “Not Martin.” I swallowed hard on tears of rage and frustration. “I can’t believe it.”

  “Put on your gloves, both of you.” Abe moved toward the sofa. I saw Brandon coming in behind him.

  “Sorry, Skye,” Brandon said with a pat on the shoulder. “Were the two of you close?”

  “No. Not exactly,” I whispered. “He’d worked with my husband a few times. I knew him.” I put on my gloves, and followed Abe.

  “It’s like it was with Mr. Welk,” I said. “His heart is gone. No blood.”

  “What about the gold ring?” Abe’s voice was as calm as though he was asking about something missing from a shopping list.

  I searched the room around Martin, trying not to notice the fear frozen on his face. Brandon and I had to move him to find the ring. It dropped to the floor when we turned him.

  “Yeah. That’s here too. Also, a black greasy film that I thought was soot yesterday when I picked up Mr. Welk. What does it all mean, Abe?”

  “It means you should move him out of here as quickly as possible. We’ll talk when we get back to the mortuary.”

  Being a little agitated at finding Martin that way, I bit back. “There better be some real answers. I don’t want to be strung along on this again. Martin was our best shot at figuring out why this is happening. I don’t think it’s an accident that he ended up like this.”

  Abe took a quick breath. I thought he might snap at me as he had yesterday. “We’ll talk when we get done here, Skye. Let’s get moving before someone else comes around.”

  There was an edge to his tone, but it was more like that of a long-suffering parent. He walked out of the house as soon as he’d finished what he had to say.

  “What’s going on, Brandon?” I asked as we lifted Martin to put him into the black body bag.<
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  “Why ask me? How should I know?”

  “Because you do. Tell me.”

  “Even if I could, I wouldn’t. It’s not my place.”

  “How did Abe know it was Martin before he got here?”

  “Someone called him. I don’t know who.” He glanced back to make sure Abe was still outside. “Just get your end, and let’s get out of here, huh?”

  No wonder Abe didn’t want Debbie there. Knowing the dead person made it so much more personal. She was upset enough without really knowing what was going on.

  What was it about the killer wanting the dead man on the sofa? Was there something to the location that was important? Or was it just convenient? And what about the gold wedding band? It certainly wasn’t Martin’s.

  We got the body bag on the stretcher, and I let Brandon take it out.

  This time, I took dozens of photos of the entire room with my cell phone. I hadn’t done so yesterday because I had no idea this needed to be an ongoing investigation. Seeing Martin dead, so soon after our discussion involving the killings with Abe’s zombie workforce, put my law enforcement mode up front.

  I put on my gloves, and pocketed Martin’s cell phone. Then I got a sample of the black grease that was on everything, and tucked it into a plastic sandwich bag. It was odorless. I didn’t taste it.

  There was a bottle of cheap wine on the table beside the sofa, and two glasses that hadn’t been used. I found plastic bags in the kitchen, and took all three items. I didn’t have a fingerprinting kit, but I grabbed some talcum powder from the bathroom, and used my makeup brush from my handbag to dust for prints.

  They weren’t the clearest prints, but they might give us an idea of who was there with Martin when he died.

  “You were expecting a lot of hocus pocus,” I said out loud to the absent killer as I took a photo of the odd print that didn’t match the most common print I’d seen—probably Martin’s. “You weren’t expecting an ex-police officer, were you?”

  I followed Brandon outside. Before he left with the body, I put plastic bags over Martin’s hands to preserve any trace evidence that might be there. It didn’t look to me like there had been a struggle, even though it was hard to believe Martin hadn’t fought for his life.

  Maybe he was too drunk. Maybe he’d passed out. There could be a hundred other reasons.

  Looking at the huge wound to his chest, I hoped he hadn’t been conscious when it happened. It was a bad death anyway. Cancer might have been better.

  When I’d done all that I could without a crime scene unit, I zipped up the black bag around him again. “I’m sorry about this,” I whispered as I as I closed the back door. “But don’t worry—I’ll find who did it.”

  “Skye!” Abe called in an impatient voice. “We must leave!”

  Once I was back in the van, I closed the door, started the engine, and pulled out of the drive. In my rearview mirror, I caught a glimpse of a sheriff’s car pulling into the spot I’d just left. They wouldn’t know what happened to Martin, just that he was gone. They’d think he’d abandoned the job with no notice. It was harsh for what others would make of it. There was nothing else I could do.

  How had Abe known a deputy would be coming right away to check on Martin?

  Easy answer—he had to have someone else at the sheriff’s office. Maybe that was who had called him to the scene.

  The trip to the mortuary seemed to take forever. The day was warm and breezy. It was typical this time of year to have ice one day, and warm weather the next. There was a blue sky behind the tall buildings in Nashville. Traffic was light. I made good time.

  I knew it was me, and my worried thoughts. I meant to get answers from Abe about Martin’s death, even if it meant he was going to show me that angry side of him again.

  I was afraid of Abe, like Brandon, and everyone else I knew who worked for him—except Debbie.

  He was more than two hundred years old, with magic that brought dead people back to life. He had plenty of tricks up his sleeve, as I’d tried to warn Debbie. I was sure I wasn’t the only one who didn’t want to openly engage him.

  It looked as though I had no choice as Abe met me outside the mortuary. I stepped out of the van.

  “What were you doing back there?” he asked in a stern voice that was iron sheathed by velvet.

  My heart was pounding but I didn’t back down from him. “What I should have done at the first crime scene. This is how police find the bad guys, Abe. Clues lead us to them.”

  “Throw all of it away, Skye. I told you that this isn’t a normal murder. You can’t use police tactics to find out who killed your friend, and Mr. Welk.”

  I stared at him. “You know, don’t you? You know who did it.”

  He looked away, obviously troubled. “I’m not certain. The only thing I know for sure is that you can’t play detective with this. Keep your head down. Do as I say. If there is a cause for action, I’ll let you know.”

  I think he could tell by the dark scowl on my face that I wasn’t happy with that response.

  He took my hand in his. “Please. Let me handle it. I value you too much to lose you, Skye. Magic—strong, dark magic—is involved in these deaths. Fingerprints won’t help you.”

  Hadn’t Lucas said much the same thing? Maybe he was more useful than I gave him credit for.

  I backed away from Abe. “All right. I’ll be careful, and I won’t treat this like a police homicide, but you’re wrong not to.”

  “Thank you.” He smiled, relieved, and gave my hand one last squeeze. “Who have you been kissing lately, hmm? There is a small enchantment on you. Be careful of magic that hides itself in romance.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  I watched Abe walk away with his bodyguards beside him before I went inside the mortuary. I wasn’t sure what he meant about magic hiding itself in romance, but it was interesting that he could see Lucas’s kiss.

  Okay. So Lucas really had some mojo going on besides that crazy illusion ability. I wasn’t sure if I was happy about it or not. It could make him more dangerous than I realized too.

  Brandon was standing inside the mortuary door smoking when I found him.

  “Another dead one.” He exhaled smoke upwards. “Kind of makes you wonder, doesn’t it?”

  “It makes me wonder a lot.”

  His almost invisible brows went up. “Did you think Abe never goes anywhere without bodyguards because everyone loves him?”

  “You mean you think this is to get back at him?”

  “What else?” He glanced around nervously before dying out his cigarette on the concrete floor. “Abe has plenty of enemies. It’s just a question of which one of them is killing off his people.”

  “Has it happened before?”

  “Not that I know of. Abe keeps close contact with those who serve him. Just the fact that he doesn’t know what’s happening to them says a lot.”

  We took Martin into the mortuary, putting him on the slab. Brandon removed the body bag, and dropped it on the floor.

  “Looks the same.” He examined Martin with a repulsed expression. “Not a great way to die.”

  “Why is Abe so against me trying to find out who’s killing these people?”

  “I don’t know.” Brandon stood back from the body. “If it was me, I’d let you have at it. I think he needs all the help he can get.”

  “Why wouldn’t he want to tell us about it? Maybe it could save the rest of us from ending up the same way.”

  “Seriously, Skye.” He glared at me. “I don’t know. I’m scared too. Any of us could be the next target.”

  “Do you have the gold ring?”

  He checked his pockets, and pulled out the ring in a plastic bag. “It looks just like the other one. Somebody must be buying in bulk.”

  “If this is against Abe, why hasn’t he or she come after him instead of attacking his people?”

  “Uh . . . Abe has magic and bodyguards. Most people wouldn’t want to mess with that.”

/>   “But he or she wants to annoy him, maybe threaten him.”

  “I guess.” He shrugged, and lit another cigarette. “You should drop it, like he said. He knows what he’s doing. It doesn’t involve you. I’d hate to see you get hurt.”

  “It does involve me. Martin was my friend. He told me there have been other deaths of the same type around Nashville. He was on to something. The killer probably chose to kill him for that reason.”

  Brandon and I were silent for a moment as we stared at Martin’s grotesque face.

  “This is bad,” he whispered. “Abe’s not kidding around. I’ve never seen him this way. You’d better leave it alone.”

  “You’re talking to the wrong zombie. I’m not good at forgetting what happened or ignoring a friend’s death. I don’t think Abe has this situation under control at all. I think he’s scared, and he doesn’t know what to do, but he won’t admit it.”

  “You might be right. But he’ll know what to do with you if you keep pestering him about it. I don’t want to see that happen. Let it be, Skye.”

  I couldn’t let it go. Whoever killed Martin could be out there looking for me too. If I ignored the problem, or waited for Abe to protect me, I could be next.

  But I wouldn’t talk to Abe again about it. “All right. I won’t bother him with it again.”

  “Good.” Brandon grinned. “Thanks.”

  That didn’t mean I wouldn’t keep snooping around. I’d made a promise to Martin, and I meant to keep it—just like with Jacob. Someone had to remember, and find out what happened.

  My phone rang. It was Abe. “I almost forgot, Skye. I have a pickup for you. Check your texts. I’d like Debbie to go with you. This one should be normal.”

  As far as ‘normal’ was concerned, that seemed to be a relative term for this business. I said goodbye to Brandon, and went out to the van.

  I called Debbie twice on the way over to her house. Once I was in the driveway, I figured I might as well knock at the door and tell her about the assignment.

  Her house was so cute—everything a mountain cabin should be. It had to be great for her kids growing up here. I wished the inn wasn’t so huge, and run down. There wasn’t much I could do about it. Having a mother, and a grandmother, had to be better than a cute house for Kate. Maybe someday, she could have a place like this.